“Not me.” She struggled to hold still as he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, swirling both digits until her sensitive skin peaked even more. “I am no one of importance. I have no magic, no knowledge beyond that of my duties.”

“Can you find out who the woman is they will send to me?” His hand cradled her breast, thumb tapping at its center. “Surely, you can discover that much.”

Her head swam for a brief moment of bliss, brought on by his touch until what he asked settled in her mind. “Woman…” She frowned. He wanted to know what woman they would make him breed with? It seemed a strange request. If he wanted to escape, he ought to ask for keys or a weapon at least. “Why?”

Footsteps shuffled in the upstairs hall. A man spoke, his voice weary.

Hessa shook her head and backed away from the cell, sudden jealousy burning inside of her. She thrust her hand into her bag.

“Because if I can’t have my freedom, I want you to take that woman’s place,” Gunnar whispered. He gave her a stern look and then went to sit on his pallet.

She swallowed her jealousy and went about her work, dropping food in the cells or into the hands of the prisoners. She went up the steps, but not without a backward glance at her stolen warrior. Gunnar was watching her. He didn’t smile or nod, but she heard his voice softly humming.

When she reached the top of the stairs, the wind rattled the smeared glass high in the upper cells. A storm must be coming, she thought.

“You’re early.” The cell keeper eyed her with suspicion.

“Yes,” she bowed her head lest he take more notice of her. “I have more work than usual behind the tavern today. I wanted to get a head start.”

He snorted and patted her shoulder. “You always work like a horse, woman. If I had spare gold, I’d buy you myself. Keep you in my house.”